


Storytelling

by Neanmorra



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-03-08
Packaged: 2018-03-16 22:13:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3504650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neanmorra/pseuds/Neanmorra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo and Tauriel meet for the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Storytelling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sansael](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sansael/gifts).



> I wrote this for the lovely Sansael, hope you enjoy it, dear!

Humming a gay tune, Bilbo Baggins put the Long Lake at his back and turned toward the looming darkness of the forest to his right. Strangely enough, he felt no fear as the dark tall trunks edged closer with every passing hour but then he wasn't quite the same Hobbit that had blundered out of his door a year ago. 

Just like he had as a member of the company of Thorin Oakenshild at the beginning of his adventure, he admired the beauty nature had to offer and even more so now that he was on his own. Bilbo took his time, all the while halting to inspect a particular superb specimen of the world of plants; after all he was a Hobbit and as such equipped with a love for growing things.

Ori had given him a little sketchbook as a parting gift and already it was brimming with drawings, notes and merry moments from his journey captured in ink on paper.

As yet another day drew to a close Bilbo decided to rest beneath a massive oak that spread its enormous canopy over the little fellow as he set the rucksack to the ground, carefully leaning it against the trunk of the majestic tree and spread his arms wide, stretching his aching back. A mighty yawn and more stretching as a tired yet joyful smile crept over his face and he thought of Thorin. The Dwarf had done well after he had been crowned a king by Gandalf. Hundreds of workers strove to restore the former beauty of the kingdom and with each passing day the damage done by the fire worm could be seen less. However, it was the thought of the king holding him tight in his embrace as they drifted off to sleep together that brought a playful redness to his cheeks.

In the orange light of the setting sun he began to collect fallen branches and boughs for his small camp-fire; the Dwarves and Men of the Lake had supplied him with more than enough food for the return journey and he was only grateful for it, remembering days when he had to go without meals. Bilbo was so deeply lost in thought that he did not notice that he was no longer alone beneath the thick and sturdy branches of the oak trees around him, yet even if he had been sharp as a knife's edge he never would have caught the light steps of the Silvan Elf.

“May I join you?”

Imaginable, Bilbo gave quite a start and even a choked shriek pushed past his quivering lips as he clutched the logs to his small chest, looking about frightened. His eyes fell on a tall slender figure standing next to a yew tree. A woodland elf, that much Bilbo was able tell from the distinct clothing right away yet it took him two more looks to finally realize who he had in front of him and a warm smile replaced the frown he had worn. There was not doubt that this was the elf Kíli had been speaking of in such high tones (and even dreamy ones). The sun gleamed bright in her flaming red hair as she stepped closer, her feet whispering over the forest floor like wind would rustle autumn leaves still on their respective twigs and it took Bilbo yet another moment to come to his senses and find some manners.

“Elen síla lumenn' omentielvo, my lady Tauriel”, he said and bowed low. 

A laugh so clear as dew on the grass in the morning rang between the trees as the elf addressed as Tauriel knelt in front of Bilbo to meet his eye. “Indeed it does, Bilbo Baggins, lover of tongues. It honours me to hear the words of my people from your lips. Long I have wanted to make the acquaintance of the Halfling they call Elf-friend and sing of in the songs at the feasts under the starlight.”

Bilbo stared at her, all amazed by her appearance and found it hard to put the words his mind was laying out before him in an order so they would make an appropriate sentence. “Why don't we get a fire going, prepare some dinner and have a delightful conversation?”

“Gladly I accept your offer.” Tauriel stood and swift as flowing water she picked up more broken branches and carried them to where Bilbo had set up his little camp.

It was not long until the both comfortingly sat beside the dancing flames, each a plate with roasted meat and vegetables in their hands, happily nibbling away at it. Only when both had finished their meal and put the dishes away, Bilbo took out his pipe and stuffed it while Tauriel watched him curiously.

“I have never understood the custom of blowing smoke into the air”, she remarked as the Hobbit tried to coax the weed to smoulder.

“There is nothing like a relaxing pipe after dinner under the clear sky, stars twinkling down from the black velvet of the night sky. Especially if you are sitting comfortably on your bench just outside your Hobbit hole.” A small chuckle erupted in his throat although he felt the stinging feeling of homesickness.

“Why did you come and seek me out?”

“Mirkwood can be a dangerous place for one alone which is why I would like to ask your permission to be your travelling companion until you reach the other side of the forest safely.”

“Why, that is truly generous of you, my lady Tauriel. How could I have earned such kindness?”, Bilbo asked surprised, yet not at all displeased. He knew Thorin would have his head if he ever found out he were 'conspiring' with the prancy elf-maid that had had the audacity to 'spin a treacherous cobweb of seduction' around his youngest nephew. The thought left him chuckling to himself.

“I hear you are a remarkable story teller and I would be delighted to hear a tale or two you have to tell.”

Bilbo was left gaping. “Good gracious! Who ever told you this?”

“Kíli”, Tauriel said simply.

“I see. Had to tell the lads more than one story over the past year and surely they seemed interested in what I had to offer even if it were simple anecdotes I recalled from ordinary days back in the Shire. How some rascals would steal my prize winning pumpkin during the night or what magnificent parties the Old Took used to have on midsummer's eve.” Bilbo sighed deeply. “By Eru, I miss my cosy little hole and all those fine Hobbits I miss even more.”

“Let us make an agreement then, Bilbo Baggins. I will safely escort you through the forest and not one evil shall befall you while I watch over you and in return you will spoil me with tales.” Tauriel's face lit up like that of a child and she anxiously waited for his response.

“It is done!”, he exclaimed and flashed a smile across the fire to Tauriel who had laid the quiver and the bow, as well as her two glinting daggers next to her but never they were out of reach.

 

It was the second time Bilbo had to take the Eleven road through Mirkwood, however, now the forest seemed a lot friendlier and less stuffy, less gloomy even. The miles and time passed swiftly while Bilbo spoke of Hobbit children being naughty beasts and of dragons ruling over the world in ancient times; his stories ranged from adventurous over romantic to dramatic and hilarious and Tauriel's laugh rang clear like bells through the forest. Whenever it did, the darkness that lay between the trees seemed to retreat even further and the sun got a fool's chance of painting shifting specks of light onto the stony path before them.

“Will you tell me the tale of how you slipped past me and my guards?”, Tauriel asked one day and it was Bilbo's turn to laugh a deep hearty laugh that caused the birds in the trees around them to flutter off disturbed.

“If you insist. Then let us rest here.”

After taking a long sip from a water skin and taking the first bite of an apple, the Hobbit began to talk and Tauriel listened first with a frown on her brow when he recalled the guards responsible for the imprisoned dwarves having a drinking feast for themselves. Then she sat there with a smile upon her lips as Bilbo described in detail how he stuffed each grumbling and unhappy dwarf in a barrel and when Bilbo told her how he had forgotten about putting himself into a barrel as well, she laughed and would not stop for a long time.

“That is a fine story, Master Burglar. A fine story indeed.”

Bilbo had no idea what to respond to this compliment so he hastily (and clumsily) scrambled to his feet and bowed low. “My thanks to you, lady Tauriel.”

And on they went, always following the trail that meandered through the forest like a mighty snail, the days became a blur to our Hobbit as he delighted the Silvan Elf with the fire hair with every story he had read in books or been told by gossiping Hobbits at the Green Dragon and never she seemed to tire. 

However, every path leads to an end and so did the Elven road. When they stepped out from under the trees on the west side of the forest, a sadness got hold of little Bilbo for he knew this was goodbye; maybe not forever but certainly until the next time he came visiting.

“What will you do now?” Tauriel asked.

“See to it that these dreadful Sackville-Bagginses – they are no real Bagginses, that is for sure – have not ransacked my deserted but much loved Hobbit hole. They would be capable of doing so! But apart from that, I might start bringing my notes and drawings in order and perhaps start writing the book I have always wanted to see written.”

“Then I wish you all the luck you need in your life, Bilbo Baggins. It has been a fine meeting and an enormously interesting journey even if our paths lead two different ways now.”

“Where will your way carry you, lady of the forest?”

“The Dwarves and Elves are attempting to coax the rotten and withered trade relationships back to life and there has still to be done much – on both sides.”

“Aye”, Bilbo answered and chuckled at the memory of Thorin growling out his utter and complete disgust for King Thranduil; he still was reluctant to make trade with the 'pointy-eard elfling' as he had come to call him.

“Fare thee well, Tauriel, daughter of the forest and the wind!”, the Hobbit called and placed his hand over his heart in elvish fashion.

“Namarië, Bilbo Baggins, friend of elves and thief of dragons! 'Till our next meeting, may it be soon!” With the swiftness and agility that was trademark of her race, Tauriel sprang beneath the trees of the forest that swallowed her after a few yards already.

“Namarië”, Bilbo whispered as he shouldered his rucksack, adjusted Sting on his belt and gripped his walking stick tighter. With one last glance towards the forest he turned his back on it and made for his home, The Shire.


End file.
